Something needs to lead us to Ava.

24

Ava moved into the corner farthest from the door, her back against the wall and her feet ready to kick. She’d worked at the ropes around her wrists but couldn’t loosen or untie them, and her hands had grown numb over the last few hours. She wished the numbness would envelop her left upper arm and shoulder. Instead she funneled that pain into anger. Her feet and her teeth were her best available weapons. She could do a lot of damage if she got close enough to her attacker.

Bring it on.

She wasn’t afraid to fight back. Her back was against the wall, and she’d do whatever was necessary to escape. She wasn’t going to calmly allow the man to slit her wrists and drain her dry. He’d have some painful bruises if he tried. And if he came at her hair with scissors or a razor, watch out.

She stared at the door, willing it to open. A motor had approached and stopped outside a few minutes ago. She’d felt the vibration through the floor before she’d registered the noise. It was the first engine she’d heard since she’d been there, and the sound had been very faint. Her location was definitely isolated and soundproofed. Special Agent Euzent had been spot-on with that analysis.

The soundproofing created an odd lack of acoustics that screwed with her perception of space. She’d yelled. A lot. But the lack of echo in the room had made it feel like she was underground several miles. She’d been dozing when she became aware of the vehicle, and she’d screamed for help again. Nothing had happened and she didn’t believe the soundproofing could block her voice, so she assumed it was her abductor out there. She’d probably pissed him off with her screams.

A knock sounded at the door.

Ava tilted her head. He wants permission to come in? “Come in,” she shouted.

The bolt slid to the side, and she heard a key rattle in the second lock. The door slowly opened, and her abductor peered into the room before entering.

He was as she remembered. Tall. Rather gawky-looking for a full-grown adult. He had the physique of a nineteen-year-old who hadn’t filled out yet. Wide-shouldered but gangly-limbed. His cheeks were hollow, and gray shadows formed half-moons under his eyes. He took off his baseball cap, exposing a shaved head, as he made eye contact. “Are you okay?”

Ava stared. Did he forget that he punched me in the jaw?

“My hands are numb.”

He dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet as if embarrassed. “Ah, yeah. I don’t think I should take the rope off yet. Maybe I’ll loosen it a bit later.”

Her plans to kick him in the balls and face took a backseat. Something was not right. He was acting like a shy schoolboy. Could she talk her way out of this? “I’d appreciate that. I can’t move my fingers.” She watched with curiosity for his reaction to her request for kindness.

He made quick eye contact and dropped it again. “I didn’t hurt you.”

He has regret? “Umm . . . well, my jaw is a bit sore from something hurting me.”

Frustration crossed his face, and he met her gaze. “I meant to say I didn’t mean to hurt you. Sorry about your leg. I mean your jaw.” He mangled the words and anger flashed in his dark eyes.

Ava watched him cautiously. The anger seemed directed at himself, not her. Could she take advantage of some remorse?

“I need to bring in Rick.” He looked at her as if asking permission.

“Okay.”

His face lit up. “I knew you’d be pleased.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Her knees weak, Ava slid down the wall into a crouch. Hurry up, Mason. She needed out of this situation. Now. She wanted to go back to her warm bed and curl against his solid back and drift off to sleep. Sunday mornings were for being lazy and reading in bed. Why in the hell had she gone looking for Jayne instead of spending a relaxing morning with her man?

Who was Rick, and why would she be pleased? She repeated their conversation in her head. He’d seemed frustrated and eager at the same time.

Was he the Bridge Killer? She’d had a few hours in the empty room to consider it. She’d gone back and forth, convinced one minute and doubtful the second. The man she’d just met didn’t act like a killer. Maybe this Rick would shed some light.

Do not let your guard down.

Her gaze fell on the door. She hadn’t heard the click of a lock. She pushed to her feet and slowly crossed the room. Was he right outside the door? Had he purposely not locked it to tease her into doing something stupid? She crept within two feet of it. Scuffling sounded outside, and she shot backward to her corner. She waited, prepared to do whatever needed to be done.

The unlocked door flew open. “Move!” the tall man ordered, and Derrick Snyder stumbled in, falling to his knees from a kick in his back. “Ass!”

Derrick’s wide-eyed gaze met Ava’s, shock showing on his face. The ball gag in his mouth garbled his words, but she understood her name.

“Do not speak to her!”

Ava held her breath. Where’s Jayne? The tall man was looking at her, waiting for her reaction. He’d called him Rick. Was that a nickname for Derrick?

Am I supposed to be happy?

“Where did you find him?” she asked, deciding to go with a neutral topic.

“Hiding. Like the coward he’s always been. His type slinks through the gutter and hides behind garbage, waiting to take advantage of decent people.”

Derrick shook his head and the man kicked him in the ear, knocking him onto his side on the nasty carpet.